privy information of the wider context in which they find themselves uncomfortably situated.
As events unravel and amplify, Kacey becomes increasingly obsessed with her past and attempts to find solace and resolution in her life despite the dangerous tumult that’s emergent in the external world and what all this means for her own past, present and near future … and everyone else’s.
[This is part of a non-linear short story collection called ‘Spectral Futures,’ of which there will be eight. These are independent short stories with different characters and incompatible realities; however, there are overlapping themes, contexts and technologies, etc., some of which are explored further, modified, or abandoned in other stories. One major theme shared by all is an ecliptic moment, aspiration or potential, which is indicated in the covers.
You can read one or all eight once the last on has been published in early July 2013. If you want to read more than two or three, however, it’s advised that you wait to get most of them for free (three days in the week following publication), or download the collection edition when it’s published shortly after the last story has been.]
Part 1
A bipedal robot runs down the pavement of a suburb of Atlantic City that’s filled with free-standing houses hidden snugly behind nine-foot-plus high walls and heavy, secured gates. The large, over-hanging trees lining the streets are littering golden leaves onto the ground, making the robot’s steps crunch slightly as it homes in on its target address.
It stops in front of a tall brick wall for a brief moment before jumping high enough to grab securely onto the top, which is lined with embedded rows of razor blades. It pulls its boots up and places them on the side of the wall — small titanium sprigs dig slightly into the painted cement and chip away at it while giving the robot the grip needed to push its body up on top of the wall.
The robot jumps down into the garden and crouches behind a line of bushes while it pulls out a hand-held battering ram from its carrying position on its back. It runs towards the front door and up onto the veranda, scaling the three steps in one leap. It then slams the battering ram up against the heavy wooden door, which flies open harshly, banging loudly up against the wall of the hallway and coming clean off one of its hinges. The sound echoes through the house, and the door comes to a rest on an awkward angle. The robot watches a man as he flees towards the back door and is brought to a stop when another robot forces the door open straight into his face, rendering him unconscious before he hits the kitchen floor.
Kacey’s robot walks a few paces towards the open double-sliding doors leading into the living room just to the left of the front door. It stands casually, sending video streaming of the scene directly to its operator, who quickly scans it with very little surprise crossing her face — standing in front of four large drums sitting next to the far wall is a man with a 3D-printed machine gun pointed nervously at the robot; next to him is a long bench with a computer, a compound generator and a mid-sized 3D printer; in the middle of the room is a hole in the floor, just over one yard in diameter, that descends deep into darkness.
Knowing his options are all futile, the man barely hesitates in squeezing the trigger, releasing rounds at the robot, some of which embed lightly into its armoured plating, while the rest ricochet harmlessly into the walls. The robot leaps into action, running towards the man and swiping its arm at him swiftly, knocking him down, his ribs cracking loudly. The gun falls silent as it slides harmlessly across the floor.
The operator turns the robot towards the computer, extends its left forefinger out, and taps on the blank screen, activating it. The operator stares fixedly at the emergency countdown box now on display in the middle of
As events unravel and amplify, Kacey becomes increasingly obsessed with her past and attempts to find solace and resolution in her life despite the dangerous tumult that’s emergent in the external world and what all this means for her own past, present and near future … and everyone else’s.
[This is part of a non-linear short story collection called ‘Spectral Futures,’ of which there will be eight. These are independent short stories with different characters and incompatible realities; however, there are overlapping themes, contexts and technologies, etc., some of which are explored further, modified, or abandoned in other stories. One major theme shared by all is an ecliptic moment, aspiration or potential, which is indicated in the covers.
You can read one or all eight once the last on has been published in early July 2013. If you want to read more than two or three, however, it’s advised that you wait to get most of them for free (three days in the week following publication), or download the collection edition when it’s published shortly after the last story has been.]
Part 1
A bipedal robot runs down the pavement of a suburb of Atlantic City that’s filled with free-standing houses hidden snugly behind nine-foot-plus high walls and heavy, secured gates. The large, over-hanging trees lining the streets are littering golden leaves onto the ground, making the robot’s steps crunch slightly as it homes in on its target address.
It stops in front of a tall brick wall for a brief moment before jumping high enough to grab securely onto the top, which is lined with embedded rows of razor blades. It pulls its boots up and places them on the side of the wall — small titanium sprigs dig slightly into the painted cement and chip away at it while giving the robot the grip needed to push its body up on top of the wall.
The robot jumps down into the garden and crouches behind a line of bushes while it pulls out a hand-held battering ram from its carrying position on its back. It runs towards the front door and up onto the veranda, scaling the three steps in one leap. It then slams the battering ram up against the heavy wooden door, which flies open harshly, banging loudly up against the wall of the hallway and coming clean off one of its hinges. The sound echoes through the house, and the door comes to a rest on an awkward angle. The robot watches a man as he flees towards the back door and is brought to a stop when another robot forces the door open straight into his face, rendering him unconscious before he hits the kitchen floor.
Kacey’s robot walks a few paces towards the open double-sliding doors leading into the living room just to the left of the front door. It stands casually, sending video streaming of the scene directly to its operator, who quickly scans it with very little surprise crossing her face — standing in front of four large drums sitting next to the far wall is a man with a 3D-printed machine gun pointed nervously at the robot; next to him is a long bench with a computer, a compound generator and a mid-sized 3D printer; in the middle of the room is a hole in the floor, just over one yard in diameter, that descends deep into darkness.
Knowing his options are all futile, the man barely hesitates in squeezing the trigger, releasing rounds at the robot, some of which embed lightly into its armoured plating, while the rest ricochet harmlessly into the walls. The robot leaps into action, running towards the man and swiping its arm at him swiftly, knocking him down, his ribs cracking loudly. The gun falls silent as it slides harmlessly across the floor.
The operator turns the robot towards the computer, extends its left forefinger out, and taps on the blank screen, activating it. The operator stares fixedly at the emergency countdown box now on display in the middle of
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